


Love the One You're with

by synchronysymphony



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (attempted) dirty talking, F/M, M/M, Referenced Sex, this is really not very scandalous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synchronysymphony/pseuds/synchronysymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius wants to take things to the next level with Cosette. Enjolras wants to help. Courfeyrac is just there for a good time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love the One You're with

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think there's anything too nsfw in here, but they do talk about sex an awful lot. Also, they drink.

Marius is worried. He’s been dating Cosette for all of two months now– two glorious, beautiful months, and everything’s been perfect except for one thing. They haven’t had sex. 

He knows Cosette isn’t opposed to the idea in general; he’s heard her talk about it freely with the others, and she’s even slept with some of their friends before (a fact which he’s frankly still trying to reconcile himself to). But for whatever reason, she hasn’t shown the slightest interest in going further than second base with him, and he doesn’t know how to push her to make the next move. He’s awkward and inexperienced, he knows this, but this is honestly ridiculous.

In the end, he decides that the only thing he can do is ask his friends for advice. They all lead fairly raunchy sex lives (or at least most of them do), so they should be in a good position to tell him how to get into Cosette’s sinfully-tight pants.

With this in mind, he goes to visit Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac is a certified sex genius. He’s tried everything with everyone, and liked most of it, and moreover, he’s very liberal with the advice he dispenses. Sometimes (it’s rumored), he even loans out “props” for use in the bedroom, though what these might be, Marius can’t even begin to guess. Nevertheless, it’s with a sinking heart that Marius approaches him after lecture. What if he can’t help? Marius is determined, though, and though he’s feeling more and more awkward by the minute, he corners Courfeyrac in the hallway before he can float away to his next endeavor.

“Horf, ki-rac,” he says.

Courfeyrac smiles at him kindly. “Hello, Marius. What’s wrong today?”

“Horf,” Marius tries again, then clears his throat several times to get rid of any excess phlegm that might be lurking there. Courfeyrac looks at him with interest.

“You okay there, buddy?”

“I am good.” Wait, no. He’s not good. That’s why he’s here. “Actually, no. I am not good. Please help me.”

“That’s what I live to do.”

“Okay. Um, thank you.” Marius isn’t sure to go from here. How does one casually bring up such a delicate topic? He really should have prepared better for this. Briefly, he considers running away, then decides against it. If he can’t even handle talking to his best friend, he definitely won’t be able to handle Cosette at her most intimate.

“Help me have sex,” he blurts out, possibly louder than intended. Several people turn around to stare at him. Courfeyrac looks delighted.

“Like, right now?”

“Right.” Marius coughs, trying to get rid of the awkward creaking in his voice. “Now is– yes. Now.”

“Okay!” Courfeyrac seizes him by the hand and begins to tow him away, heedless of the inquisitive (and judgmental) stares of the people in the hallway. “Come on! We’re going back to my place. It’s time to get you sexed up!”

—

Dishearteningly for Marius, Combeferre and Enjolras are at Courfeyrac’s apartment. This makes sense since the three of them are basically joined at the hip, but Marius thinks it’s rather unfair for them to be going and flaunting their _friendship_ all over the place when he has serious matters to discuss with Courfeyrac. They greet him cheerfully, though, even going so far as to offer him one of their “special midterms drinks,” which, as far as he can tell, contain near-lethal amounts of caffeine. He politely declines, then sits down on the couch between them, hoping they will get the hint and leave, but of course they don’t, and merely continue whatever horribly boring conversation they were having over his head. At least, Combeferre talks over his head. Enjolras is too small to stretch up that far, so he ends up climbing on Marius’s lap for better access, and continues talking from there. Marius is, to say the least, terribly distressed.

“Excuse me,” he stutters out, as soon as they come to a pause in the conversation (which Courfeyrac has unfortunately joined as well). All three of them turn to look at him. Enjolras clobbers him with the top of his head, then smacks him in protest as if it’s not his own fault that he’s sitting there.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” asks Combeferre kindly. “Please go ahead. You’ve been here enough that you really don’t need to ask each time.”

“No, it’s not that, well…” Now that Combeferre’s mentioned it, Marius really does have to use the restroom, but he’s not about to throw away his shot when he’s finally getting up the courage to take it. “I need advice,” he says. Combeferre and Enjolras brighten up.

“Advice?”

“Well, yes. You see, I have an issue, and… well… it’s a sensitive one. I would appreciate. No. I would be happy, no. I would… can you leave?”

“Leave?” Enjolras turns crystal-blue puppy-dog eyes at him, pouting and looking so charmingly put out that if Marius weren’t feeling so awkward, he would want to redact his statement immediately. “But we want to help! Don’t we, ‘Ferre?”

“Naturally,” agrees Combeferre. “Don’t worry, son, you can tell us anything.”

“Okay, for one thing, you’re _definitely_ not old enough to be calling anyone ‘son’,” says Marius. “But also, this is a very sensitive matter, and it’s a bit difficult to talk about, so…”

“I see.” Enjolras and Combeferre nod in tandem, somehow managing to make the same expression. “Okay, don’t worry.”

Marius breathes a sigh of relief. “So…?”

“So what you say will never leave this room,” says Enjolras seriously. “We’ll swear it on the French flag.”

“Unless you want it to,” offers Combeferre brightly. “That’s okay too.”

“Oh, yes. It’s up to you.”

“Quite, just as he says.”

They nod at him seriously. Combeferre even adjusts his glasses for better visual access. Marius feels, if possible, even more uncomfortable than he had before, but he doesn’t know how to get rid of them, and besides, it’s very likely that Courfeyrac will just ask their opinions anyway. Awkward though it is, it seems that all he can do is begin. 

“Okay,” he says. “So. Well. Sex.”

“Ah.” Combeferre takes off his glasses and steeples his fingers under his chin like some kind of guidance counselor from a 90s-era TV comedy. “Okay. I knew this day would come. Well, don’t worry. You’ve come to the right place. You’re not the first one to come to me; I explained things to Enjolras back in the day, too.”

Enjolras squeaks and tries to kick him. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that!”

“Why not? It’s not like our school system was going to do it.”

“Oh yes, that’s true. You know, I actually have some ideas about that, I– ”

“No, no.” Marius puts his hand over Enjolras’s mouth to cut him off, then immediately regrets doing so when Enjolras bites him. “Ow! Anyway, that’s not the problem. I think you guys have the wrong idea. I know what sex is, I just need to know… how to get it to happen.”

Combeferre purses his lips. “You mean… you can’t just ask?”

Now _that’s_ a ridiculous idea. Marius raises his eyebrows at the two libertines in front of him. “What kind of debauched lives are you guys leading?”

While Combeferre and Enjolras look at each other and start giggling like a couple of loons, Marius shakes his head with all the dignity he can summon, and glares at Courfeyrac, who’s been watching this whole exchange and shaking with laughter. What a terrible best friend he is. “You know, you could help me out here.”

Courfeyrac wipes a teary eye. “And miss all this?”

“You’re awful.”

“I’m awesome.”

“Isn’t it interesting that those two words originally meant close to the same thing?” breaks in Combeferre, who’s apparently done with his little giggle-fest. “Language is such a many-varied thing, so beautiful in its ability to shift and express even the subtlest of nuances. I really am amazed every day at how lucky we are to be blessed with such a wonderful medium of communication.”

At any other time, Marius might be tempted to talk more with him about this, but right now, he isn’t impressed. “Okay, great. How do I get Cosette to have sex with me?”

“First, does she want to have sex with you?” Enjolras jabs one of his delicate little tapered fingers into Marius’s chest, rather harder than necessary. “Just because you’re dating, that doesn’t mean consent is a given! You can’t just assume, okay! You know, I have so many feelings about this.”

“Yes, I know you do. You have feelings about everything.” 

“So many!”

“Okay, okay! Fine, let’s assume that I ask her, and she’s on board, and everything. Are you happy with that? Can we proceed?”

“Yes, okay. Just make sure you ask her in real life.”

“Well, obviously. I mean, I’m a decent human being, you know.”

“Great!” Enjolras claps excitedly, ready as ever to dispense help to the needy. “So! Why don’t you just show up to her house dressed in one of her flannel shirts with nothing underneath and go ‘hey, I wanna see your etchings.’ And then she’ll take you back to her studio and you can, well. See her etchings.”

“That seems a little specific to your relationship, though?”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Enjolras ponders over this for a second. “I mean, you could always argue with her a lot, and then when the sexual tension gets too high, she can drag you off to her bedroom and rail you so hard that you forget the fundamental basics of the Paris tax code.”

“Again, way too specific.”

“Then… you could sit on her bed wearing nothing but stockings, a garter belt, and a faux-leather collar, wait for her to come home, then ask her to tie you up and– ”

“Woah there,” interrupts Combeferre hurriedly. “Enjolras, you know I love you and I fully support you and Grantaire in anything you guys do, but I really don’t want to know this.”

Courfeyrac leans forward, eyes all aglow. “I kind of do.”

“None of this is helpful,” says Marius, before Enjolras decides to enlighten Courfeyrac on any details. “I can’t do any of those things. Combeferre, do you have any ideas?”

“Hmm.” Combeferre gives Marius one of his best patient-and-understanding looks. He should really think about going in for psychiatry. “Well, why don’t you tell us the specifics of your relationship? That way, we’ll know better how to advise you.”

“That’s… actually a good idea.” 

Marius has to take a moment to collect his thoughts, a moment which would probably be shorter if his friends weren’t staring at him unblinkingly the whole time, but finally he knows where he’s going to start.

“So, you see,” he begins. “Cosette and I have been dating for two months and three days, but the furthest we’ve gone is fairly serious kissing. She grabbed my butt once, but that was it. We haven’t even… do you have to take notes while I’m telling you this?”

Enjolras blinks at him belligerently. “Yes.”

“Okay, fine.” Marius clears his throat in an effort to clear his head (it seems like these two actions should be related, somehow), and goes on. 

“So you see, I really don’t know how to make a move. Like, of any kind. So I need her to take the lead, but she doesn’t seem to want to. Which I don’t understand, because she’s a pretty sexual person, and I know she’s not averse to the idea of sex with me. But for some reason, she doesn’t seem to want to take things further, and I just don’t know what to do!”

“Maybe she’s afraid that you don’t want her to take things further,” suggests Courfeyrac. “You do seem like a pretty innocent little puppy. Maybe she doesn’t want to drive you towards sin.”

Enjolras perks up. “This is true! For a long time, Grantaire didn’t want to do anything to me, because he was afraid of hurting me! So I had to tell him explicitly that I wanted him to do… things. Maybe you should tell Cosette this!”

“Hmm, yes. Communication is always the best way to keep relationships healthy.” Combeferre smiles happily, obviously pleased to be able to dispense some of his psychology-grandpa wisdom. “Why don’t you practice right now so you can get more comfortable? Pretend Enjolras is Cosette and have the discussion. Courf and I will coach you.”

Enjolras coos in delight and shifts so that he’s nose-to-nose with Marius. “Ferre is so smart. Okay, take it away! I’m ready!”

“Ah. Well.” Now that it comes down to it, Marius isn’t really sure what to do. “Well. Um, what’s the backstory here?”

“We’re coming back from a protest and hiding from the cops in a safe house,” says Enjolras immediately. “No, wait. That’s too romantic. You probably wouldn’t even need this discussion in that case. Um, let’s see…”

“You’re at her house,” cuts in Courfeyrac. “Her dad isn’t there, so she invited you over for some cheesecake and chill. You’ve already had your dessert, so now you’re in her room. You guys were making out a little bit, and she climbed on top of you. Okay, action!”

Marius isn’t much more prepared than he was before, but apparently Enjolras is. He drops his eyelids, looking up coyly through his lashes, and starts playing with the collar of Marius’s shirt. When he speaks, his voice is like velvet, almost an octave lower than it was before.

“So, Marius, we have the house to ourselves. What do you want to do?”

“Uh. Um…” Ridiculously, Marius finds himself almost as flustered as he would be in a real-life situation with Cosette. “Well, we could… what do you have in mind?”

“You. Always you.” Enjolras leans forward so that his breath ghosts over Marius’s lips, close enough that Marius can feel the heat charging between them. He smells sweet, like coffee and vanilla. This shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. “Marius, talk to me. You know I’m always… _open_ for you.”

Dimly, Marius is aware of Courfeyrac cracking up in the background, but he can’t really pay attention to much, because now Enjolras has one hand tangled in his hair, and is slowly tracing along his jawline with the other. He bites his lip and looks down, demure, and Marius can’t help but notice that his mouth is very soft and kissable-looking. 

“Unless… you don’t want me? Am I assuming too much?”

This is a ridiculous statement, and Marius hastens to correct it, tripping over his words in his hurry. “No, no! That’s not it at all! I do– I do want… I want you. Really.”

Enjolras looks up again, now sporting a playful (and undeniably sultry) smirk, and draws close enough that he can speak directly into Marius’s ear. 

“Then take me,” he purrs. “Show me how much you want me. I want to hear it. What do you want to do with me?”

All the heat in Marius’s body rushes to his head. This is it; the moment he’s been preparing for. He licks his lips, but his mouth seems to have gone dry, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. 

“I, I want,” he stutters. No, that’s not good. He has to match Enjolras. Time to take this to the level he’s been too shy to reach. He picks up one of his hands, which heretofore has been resting awkwardly by his side, and places it on the small of Enjolras’s back, tugging him closer.

“I want to place my penis inside your vagina,” he says. 

There’s silence for a moment. Courfeyrac stands up. 

“Excuse me,” he says with preternatural calm. “I will be back in a moment.”

Marius barely notices anything. He’s still too giddy with what he’s just managed to say, and too preoccupied with the shocked expression of the beautiful boy straddling his lap. How about that? He can do this sex thing after all. Enjolras must be melting by now. 

“Um…” Enjolras bites his lip again, seemingly unconsciously. “Well… okay. Let’s work from here. What else, Marius? What else do you want to tell me?”

Marius is drunk on his success. All his hesitations have flown far away. Boundaries, what are those? He could be a professional seducer.

“You’re so sexy,” he says. “Which is why we should have sex.”

Enjolras makes a strange choked sound. He looks down, obviously overcome with Marius’s ability to woo and charm. It takes him a minute to recover, but once he does, he does with a vengeance. 

“I want you so much, Marius,” he says, somehow making his voice halfway between a whine and a growl. It’s one part pleading, one part demanding, and all parts hot. “Tell me more. Tell me exactly what you want.” He grinds down, pressing close enough that Marius can feel the bones in his slim hips, and angles his head down to breathe his words against Marius’s neck. “I need more.”

Marius is honest-to-god turned on now, and there’s no going back, so he decides to go for broke. “I would like for us to have sex until we both ejaculate. And then we could go again.”

“Oh. Um– ”

Marius isn’t done. “You’re so hot. You’re sexy, and you make me want to have sex with you. I think anyone would want to have sexual relations with you, but I’m the only one who gets to.” He stops for a second, overwhelmed by Enjolras and all his lush beauty. With his perfect golden curls, porcelain skin, and freckles, he looks almost exactly like Cosette. Only his eyes are different, doll-like, yes, but burning with a fire and intensity that no one could miss. Marius can’t help but wonder if some of that passion is meant for him. Hesitant no longer, he moves his free hand to cup Enjolras’s ass.

“Come here,” he says. “I’m going to make you scream my name all night.”

Enjolras looks like he’s about to say something, but then his face changes, and he springs off Marius’s lap, blushing furiously all over. It takes Marius a second to figure out why, so caught up is he with his mission of seduction, but then he looks down at his lap and realizes that his arousal has taken physical form. Enjolras must have felt it and panicked.

“Well, this is awkward,” he says, unsure of what else to say. Enjolras nods.

“Sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting… well. I mean, that is to say…”

Fortunately, Courfeyrac saves the situation. Somehow, he’s gotten back in the room without anyone noticing, and he has a bottle and several shot glasses. He wraps an arm around Enjolras’s waist and leads him over to the coffee table. 

“Drink with me.”

Enjolras takes the bottle and sniffs at it. “What is this?”

“The finest of bottom-shelf vodka.”

“Absolut?”

“Smirnoff.”

“Oh god.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes, but pours himself a shot anyway. Combeferre comes over and snatches it out of his hand.

“Don’t be rude. Guests first.”

Realizing that Combeferre is about to offer it to him, Marius decides that it’s time he made his exit. He doesn’t want to drink right now, not when he has more exciting plans for tonight. Only the best for Cosette, after all. 

“Sorry, I think I’ll pass,” he says. “I’m going to try out my new techniques right now.”

Courfeyrac grins widely and slaps him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Go for it, my man!”

“Yes, have a good time,” says Combeferre mildly. He fetches Marius’s coat and helps him put it on, making an obvious show of slipping a condom into the pocket. “Do be careful. And make sure she has fun.”

Marius wants to protest that this is a given, but he doesn’t want a lecture, so he just nods and edges towards the door. “Thanks for your help, everyone.”

“Of course! We were happy to help!”

Enjolras waves at him sunnily, still a little pink in the cheeks, but back to his normal self. “Good luck!”

Marius grins at them all. “I don’t need luck.”

“That’s maybe a bit overly optimistic,” mumbles Courfeyrac, but Marius isn’t paying any attention. He’s ready to live. As he throws open the door and struts off towards Cosette’s house, all he can think is that he’s ready to face a bright new sexy future.

—

Later that night, Enjolras is lying on Grantaire’s couch, curled up happily in his boyfriend’s arms. Earlier, he’d persuaded Grantaire to cook his favorite pasta dish for him, with a special fudge cheesecake for dessert, and now both of them are sleepy, full, and completely content. Enjolras is finding it hard to keep his eyes open, in fact, as Grantaire threads his fingers through his hair and presses lazy kisses all over. He’s probably going to go to sleep at some point, and Grantaire will have to carry him to bed, but neither of them mind this, and in fact, they’ve come to expect it. Everything’s warm, cozy, and calm, and all in all, it’s a perfect, peaceful night in.

Enjolras’s phone buzzes on the table, disrupting the serenity. At first, he wants to ignore it, but after it buzzes three more times in quick succession, he decides he probably ought to see who’s so desperate to get in touch with him. He nuzzles against Grantaire with the top of his head.

“My love, can you reach that for me?”

“You work me too hard,” grumbles Grantaire, but he stretches off the couch to retrieve Enjolras’s phone. “Want me to check it for you too, your highness?”

“Please.”

Grantaire grumbles some more about overwork and how labor should be distributed evenly, and how Enjolras should really show a better example in his efforts to lead the people. His words are undercut by the sweet kisses he lays on Enjolras’s face, though, and when he settles back onto the couch, he makes sure to resume his position as big spoon.

Enjolras hums in sleepy contentment and affection, and doesn’t bother opening his eyes while Grantaire checks his texts for him. Whatever it is, Grantaire will tell him.

Sure enough, Grantaire soon starts laughing uproariously, almost as much as he had when Enjolras recounted his awkward interaction with Marius earlier in the day. Enjolras pokes him in the chin.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, kitten.”

“Well, yeah. But no. Who texted me?”

Grantaire chuckles at him good-humoredly and ruffles his hair. “Cosette. She wants to know why Marius yelled your name during sex tonight, and why he’s requesting that you join them for a threesome later.”

Enjolras stiffens, all sleepiness gone. “Marius– what?”

“Are you guys having a secret affair?” Grantaire pinches Enjolras lightly on the cheek. “That’s scandalous. I mean, I know you might want to get away from me sometimes, but _Marius_? I have to question your taste, babe.”

There was a time when Grantaire would never have been able to tease like this. Enjolras is beyond grateful that they’ve reached a point of such comfort and security in their relationship that they can joke around in this way. Still…

“I never want to get away from you,” he says. “You’re my sun and stars, and no matter what, I’m yours to keep. I love you, sweetheart. Don’t ever doubt it.”

“I can’t believe how soppy you are,” says Grantaire, but his voice cracks on the last two words. Enjolras pokes him.

“You love it.”

“I do. And I love you.” Grantaire turns him around and kisses him so thoroughly that he’s seeing stars by the time they break away. He runs his thumb over Enjolras’s mouth, and smiles when Enjolras moves after it with his tongue. “Are you too sleepy to see if you can make me yell your name, too?”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Enjolras leans in to nip at Grantaire’s lower lip, just enough to make him chase Enjolras’s mouth when he pulls away.

“Maybe.”

“Then, let’s go.”

Grantaire needs no more prompting. He picks up Enjolras to carry him to the bedroom, planting kisses on his forehead, face, neck, and anywhere else he can reach. Enjolras puts his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and holds on tight, so content that he thinks his heart might melt. This is it, he thinks. Marius can keep his fancy seduction attempts. Enjolras has all he needs right here.

**Author's Note:**

> oh yeah by the way apparently in the Victorian era, artists would use the "hey bby wanna see my etchings" as a pickup line, and it was like the "netflix and chill" of the day.  
> #themoreyouknow


End file.
